


On the Edges of the Fire, Shadows Dance

by Meatball42



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Tea, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-25 20:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12043665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: The Rebellion celebrates a success, but no one knows better than Leia that no victory comes without its losses. Leia comforts a pilot learning that lesson for himself, and finds some peace for herself in the process.





	On the Edges of the Fire, Shadows Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/gifts).



> This story has the potential to become shippy, tentative plans have been made. If you like the idea, Cassie, let me know and I will add on a chapter 2!

_ “Signal lock… _ ”

The ranking officers, technicians, and assorted personnel crammed into the command room collectively held their breath. They watched on the holoscreens as a low-quality composite of their agents circling the First Order outpost refreshed every few seconds.  _ Closer, closer… _

_ “Accessed. We’re going in.” _

The outpost was small, but important. Leia forced her hands on the console before her to relax, calling up a long-perfected neutral expression. She was the bulwark to the less-experienced soldiers and analysts around her, the figurehead not just of the rebellion, but the Light itself, and no matter how much she wanted to pray, she could not show a weakness.

They all looked so young, her soldiers, in the Resistance uniform of whatever-we-have, variously khaki green, bright orange, dull blue. Leia remembered when she was their age, when her commanders had appeared aged and wise and impermeable. Now, from the other side, she wished… 

_ “Location secured, repeat, location secured. The base is ours.” _

The command room exploded into cheers. Fighters hugged each other and laughed giddily. People crowded to smack the backs of the analysts and communications officers whose work had helped secure the strategic target. Leia’s fellow commanders approached to shake her hand, and she congratulated and thanked them before they were dragged away by their respective subordinates to celebrate. Leia sat down in her seat a few steps back from the command console and allowed herself several deep breaths.

A spot of stillness in the melee caught Leia’s attention. Across the room, far enough away from the celebration that no one would trip over him, a man in a pilot’s orange jumpsuit and leather jacket sat with his head in his hands.

It took Leia far too long to reach him. A few years ago, Han would have been here, would have read her intentions, rolled his eyes, and drawn the party’s attention away from her with the sheer force of his charisma. His ego, she’d have teased. Now, his absence meant that she was stopped every few feet for a quick congratulations. The fighter was in the corridor heading out from command central by the time she reached him, his head hanging so low that he must have been staring at his own feet.

“What’s the matter?” she asked when she was within speaking distance; no reason to startle him. The pilot turned around, surprised, and his eyes widened when he recognized her. His dark, reddened eyes.

“Not in the mood for a party, Lieutenant?” Leia said more gently, recognizing the rank on his jacket. Normally, she’d have known every one of the Resistance’s few pilot by name. Leia surmised that this must be one of the new defectors from the Republic’s Starfleet.

The pilot smiled tightly. “No ma’am. I’m-” He swallowed. “Ders Sanduh, one of the casualties of the attack, was in my unit.”

Leia stepped forward and put a hand on the pilot’s shoulder as he sniffed and visibly held himself together. “I have to- holo-chat zir family tomorrow, and the mission was classified, so I can’t even-”

“You’ll tell them ze died a hero,” Leia told the pilot firmly. “That zir bravery struck a blow against the First Order. That they can be proud, and that the Resistance honors Ders’ memory.”

The pilot heaved a breath, but he was nodding. “Thank you ma’am,” he said eventually. “That’s exactly what I’ll say.” He smiled, watery-eyed but sincere.

Leia smiled back. “We were lucky to have zim. And we’re lucky to have you. Tonight was a victory, but no victory comes without pain. Thank you for looking after your unit, Lieutenant.”

“Oh-” The pilot looked down and touched the rank insignia on the jacket. “I’m not a lieutenant, ma’am. I’m a sergeant. This is- was, Dersie’s. It belonged to Lieutenant Sanduh,” he corrected, cheeks darkening.

Leia evaluated the pilot’s clear devastation with new eyes. “I understand.”

The pilot looked back at her, wary and skittish. “Ma’am?”

“I’m not going to reprimand you, Sergeant,” she assured him. “It would do no good, would it?”

“No ma’am.”

The pilot looked worse than when he’d left the command room. Leia’s heart ached with memories, and sympathy. “Would you like to have a drink with me, Sergeant? I have a small shipment of tea in from Yavin-7, and I don’t like hoarding it.”

The pilot’s lips turned up at the corners, and Leia noticed for the first time that he was actually quite attractive. “That’s my home system,” he murmured.

“Then I really must insist,” Leia replied with finality.

“Thank you ma’am,” the pilot said, respectfully dipping his head as he stepped to the side for her to lead down the corridor. 

“Tonight, and tonight only,” she warned, “You can call me Leia.”

The pilot grinned weakly. “I won’t overstep, ma’am.”

“If you won’t, then I’ll have to call you Sergeant, and sit up straight while we drink.”

“We can’t have that,” Leia heard the pilot mumble, and then, louder. “My name is Poe, ma’am. Poe Dameron.”

“Well,  _ Poe _ ,” Leia said firmly, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

The evening that followed was quiet, with the memory of Poe’s lost lieutenant dampening the pleasure they found in each others’ company. Leia recognized Poe’s surname right off, and the sergeant cheered a hint when he talked about the settlement his parents had made on Yavin-4. His father Kes, who had fought at the Battle of Endor, was still on Yavin-4, tending to a Force-sensitive tree Leia’s brother had gifted him and his wife. Poe’s mother Bey, who had flown in battle alongside Leia herself, had passed on. They toasted to her memory with the gentle, fragrant tea of the Yavin system.

They talked about Starfleet; Leia hadn’t been, herself, but she knew many of the planets Poe had trained on and visited, and was more than familiar with the way life worked in the organization. It reminded her of growing up on Alderaan, and she shared nostalgic memories with Poe, trading for some of his happier memories of Starfleet and Yavin-4.

Perhaps it was that he was a child of the Rebellion, that he belonged there in a way even Leia could not claim, and that his parents had been under her command. Perhaps it was the shadows that lingered in his eyes, even after hours spent quietly talking. Perhaps it was her own loneliness, that she’d pushed away for so long. But whatever the reason, Leia found herself inviting the pilot for more tea on his next evening off rotation.

“Ma’am?” he queried, standing in the hallway outside her office. This part of the base was empty, most either asleep or celebrating, still. Poe held tightly to the edges of his lieutenant’s leather jacket, as though he were cold.

“I don’t take much time for myself, these days,” Leia admitted. “It would be nice to have company.”

“Then it would be my pleasure,” Poe said, with a small smile and a nod.

Leia knew she’d made the right choice when he said  _ pleasure _ , not  _ honor _ .

“Good night, Sergeant,” she said quietly.

He nodded respectfully, eschewing a full salute, and departed.

When Leia fell asleep that night, she did not drop from exhaustion, as was her practice. Instead, she drifted off with a soft smile of contentment.


End file.
